


Lost on the Road of Life

by snsxi



Category: Naruto
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Babysitting, F/F, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Friendship, Humor, M/M, Mostly Gen, Patriarchy, Reincarnation, The Author just wanted fluff and Asuma back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:47:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26205922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snsxi/pseuds/snsxi
Summary: Asuma had never taken care of children before. During his genin years, his team had religiously avoided all babysitting missions, resolving to invest their time in manual work, even going to the point of repeatedly accepting extra assignments to catch Tora I.So when he had arrived at the Daiymo’s mansion, in it’s extravagant, luxurious entirety, Asuma had expected his responsibilities at his post to only involve guard duty exclusively.However, the little Princess had other plans for the Twelve Guardians.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	Lost on the Road of Life

The Daiymo’s office resided in a secluded room in the mansion. It was designed minimalistically, holding only a large office desk, a few bookshelves shelves, and a quaint sitting area in the ahead, uncharacteristic of a man derived from a wealthy and prosperous background. Aside from the door leading out to the study and two windows, there were no other exits in the room. Asuma wholly approved of such an environment as the space was quiet and unfrequented, making his daily schedule unharried and easygoing. 

Only the sounds of rustling papers and pen scratching the surface echoed in the room, settling a pleasing, monotonous atmosphere within the area. Asuma held back the urge to yawn, having not recovered yet from spending his night before inebriated, leaving him and his wallet wishing that his fellow comrades weren’t such heavy alcoholic gamblers. 

Suddenly, the door slammed open, causing his hand to instinctively shift to the holster to his right thigh. Shit. He should’ve noticed the chakra signature at least a few yards away. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tou’s hands quietly intertwine behind her back, ready to cast a mirage if necessary. 

Instead of being greeted with an angry villager, which was actually quite regular at the Daimyo’s residence, or another ambush, surprisingly it happened rarely in comparison to the latter, a tiny human ran in. Asuma blanked. They giggled, holding what looked to be wire string in their hands as they rushed toward the Daiymo. The man surreptitiously waved his hand at them, and Asuma, as well as his partner, returned to their original positions, the idea of a threat dissipating as fast as it had come.

“Hi daddy!” Piped the squeaky voice, crawling and settling themselves comfortably in said man’s lap. The Daimyo chuckled, lines of stress smoothing out as he set down his papers in trade to steady the toddler. 

“Princess! Your Highness!” A string of sandals slapping the floor followed after, and a maid, or what should’ve appeared to be a maid, emerged at the doorway. From head to toe, she was abundantly covered in glitter, with multi-colored paint splatters decorating her clothes and staining her face. 

At the other side of the room, the faint sound of a poorly stifled chortle joined in the maid’s loud heaves. 

There was a moment of stunned silence, and then the woman ducked her head, bowing with apparent embarrassment written across her flushed face, “Apologies for the interruption, my Lord.” 

The Daimyo looked down at the small figure taking residence in his lap, quirking an eyebrow up, mirth hidden behind his serene expression. Said party looked back up at him, with a wide grin that often frequented the face of newly minted Academy graduates. She inclined her head as if to wait for his opinion on the matter. Her father gestured for the maid to dismiss herself, taking no offense at her current appearance. 

“Michiko,” the Daimyo’s deep voice was filled with endearment, yet also ridden with his disapproval, “What am I do to do with you, my child?” The look on Michiko’s face could’ve landed her a role at one of the five-star theaters in Konoha Asuma’s esteemed father attended. She blatantly donned an innocent expression, milking the appeal of her naive, childlike appearance. Her father gave a heavy sigh at her response, seemingly fed up as an air of fatigue pressured at his bent shoulders. Michiko patted her father’s shoulders, sharing a similar air of tiredness, though for other reasons.

“It’s not your fault Daddy,” Michiko’s voice bled with sympathy, “The new nannies just aren’t very good at keeping up with me,” She tapped her chin, pondering, “How about we just bring Nanako-san back?” 

The Daimyo uncharacteristically groaned, laying his head down onto his desk, only narrowly missing the ink-slab as Michiko pushed it aside. Asuma glanced at Tou, sharing a look at which she shrugged at. They were here to protect the physical safety of their Master, not his mental health. 

Noticing the movement behind her, the little girl peeked out from behind the large chair blocking Asuma from seeing her. Large, curious, black eyes looked at him and tiny hands gripped the wood edging, obscuring the rest of her features. 

“Woah.”

She wriggled out from under her father’s hunched form, ignoring his grumbles. Asuma looked on, his lips quirking up in amusement. Children usually reacted in two ways when they saw shinobi. They were either dazzled by the supposedly action-packed, risky life of ninjas depicted by mainstream media or avoided them, afraid by their parent’s tales of their tyrannical, brutal protectors. 

Michiko was a small, dainty child, and extravagant, soft pink yukata she wore, embroidered in gold, only further emphasizing her size, as well as her wealthy upbringing. She seemed to have inherited more of her mother’s features, but Asuma could see bits of her father’s deep indents between her eyes, exuding a sleepy, stoic feel. 

Tiny feet pattered toward in front of him, and she glanced between Toa and Asuma. Asuma stared right back at her, refusing to turn away. This kid was pretty bold, but he supposed it was good for someone who could be in line to inherit the Daimyo’s legacy. 

Her head tilted to the side, and a knowing smile crossed her face. Oh, Asuma had seen that look before. That was the look Anko had before she had blackmailed him into getting involved with a game of strip-poker that would leave his wallet dry and him naked. The one Kakashi had when he was ready to shove reports onto his team members after returning from a mission. The one his father would give him when any noble parties were held and his esteemed family had to attend. 

Michiko turned around, and Asuma restrained the urge to grab her and demand what she exactly she was scheming. She pranced back to her father, who had long gotten up and was peering at her from over his shoulder, curious pleasure adorning his face as he watched the scene unfold. Asuma couldn’t see what her face looked like, but he was damned sure she still had that cursed grin. 

He lightly huffed and turned away, choosing to stare at the bookcases aligning the walls. Ah yes, The _Complete Edition of Kohonagakure Geography_ sounded extremely interesting at this moment. 

Asuma could see Michiko tip-toe, leaning forward to her father’s ear as he slanted toward her, using her hands to whisper. She was lucky Asuma valued the privacy of his employer, if not, he would’ve disregarded any sense of respect and heightened his chakra to listen in. Instead, he only heard bits and pieces of the conversation. 

_Great... How...Them....Shinobi...Safe...Fight…_

He inwardly grimaced, what a gutsy kid. She probably wanted to learn how to become a shinobi or something along the lines of it. If anything, Asuma would be surprised if the Daimyo actually agreed. Ideas at his employer’s house were still at large, conservative, with women regularly denied a say in non-domestic matters. 

The Daimyo’s robe shuffled as he stroked his chin thoughtfully, and Michiko gave another pleading look in his direction. He sighed and nodded, gesturing at Asuma and Toa to come forward. 

“Yes, your honor?” Toa’s soft voice echoed in the office. 

Asuma cleared his throat as he prepared to speak, voice still hoarse from how much he had let loose last night. Michiko flounced back over to him, small tiny hands grabbing his arm and dragging him to her father. Asuma didn’t even have time to remove her off of him before he stood in front of the Daimyo. 

“This one! This one, daddy!” She jumped with excitement, acting like she was picking out a present during New Year. The Daimyo placed his hand on Michiko’s shoulder, attempting to settle her. After being manhandled, Asuma’s own patience was steadily declining. 

Her father looked at him with tired eyes, “Ah, Asuma-san, was it? Sarutobi’s son?” Asuma couldn’t help but inwardly seethe at the mention of his father as he clenched his jaw and nodded, it seemed no matter how far he ran, he would still be under their shadow. The Daimyo looked at his critically, sizing him up and down. He motioned for Michiko to let go, and she reluctantly let go of Asuma’s arm, walking over to the Daimyo’s side. 

“Asuma-san, I’m aware that as one of the Twelve Guardians you are to protect me. In accordance with our contract, you are under my jurisdiction during the time you are here," The man paused, "but I find it distasteful to force my subordinates.” He gave a sideways glance to Michiko, “If you are agreeable to such, my daughter would like your assistance until we find her a new nanny. Of course, you will not be taking care of her needs beyond supervising her safety.” The Daiymo turned back to him, awaiting his reply. 

Asuma had been ready to decline before the Daimyo had even started, but felt himself stop and look up at the little girl. 

Michiko smiled, mouthing two words at him while her father wasn’t looking. 

He paused then, withholding a smirk, Asuma opened his mouth to reply.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, author here. This fic is more centralized around Asuma and the Fire Country's Princess, the whole story is to occur around Arc I-II, and maybe a little more beyond that (depending on how the flow of the story goes). I've had this idea for a really long time, and I hope you all enjoy my writing.
> 
> Also, I don't have a beta reader (sorry), but I do try to edit consistently.
> 
> Comments and Critiques are always welcome.


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